


Static

by TyrantTirade



Series: MCU kink bingo [7]
Category: Marvel
Genre: BDSM, Dom Natasha Romanov, F/M, Human Furniture, Non-Sexual Submission, Objectification, Sub Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 20:37:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13061697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyrantTirade/pseuds/TyrantTirade
Summary: To him, there's something comforting in the fact that objects always go unseen.





	Static

**Author's Note:**

> This is really weird because I'm not into het and i have no idea how to characterize females? so the fact that i actually wrote this is still baffling me. That being said, I was thinking, who would be the best person to treat buck buck like a table, and I kind of just kept thinking Nat. This was surprisingly fun to write and I hope that this tiny little kinky thing is at least half way decent.
> 
> This covers my kink bingo square for "Human furniture."
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

Her heels feel heavy against his back, making him want to slope his spine in to accommodate for the weight easier, but he doesn't. He keeps pin straight just like Natasha told him to. 

“Be a good little table for me.”

Bucky keeps his head dropped, allowing his hair to frame his face and fall into his eyes, curtained by it.

Suddenly her feet shift, the point of one of her heels dragging against his ribs and she hums, letting him know that she's there. 

“Very sturdy,” She comments. Her feet move away from his back, settling against the floor, but are quickly replaced with her hands, dragging across the skin of his back.

It takes effort for him not to tremble. 

“I'm going to get a drink,” Natasha says idly, letting him be aware, but not letting him think for a second that he really matters. He's an object after all, not a presence.

Her hand pats firmly along the swell of his ass as she gets up from her seat. This time he has to force himself not to let a sound slip free.

He stays stock still, focusing in on the stillness, on his posture, how perfectly straight his back is. The room could be full of people, speaking and stepping but all he would have to do is keep straight and silent, just like this.

Because, to him, there's something comforting in the fact that objects always go unseen. 

Natasha returns, standing in front of him, and he reminds himself not to turn his head, not to look at her. From where she is he can only see her in his peripherals, only her legs, yet he imagines her sliding a finger across her wine glass, maybe smirking down at him. 

She bends down and traces a palm across his spine.

This time it is much, much harder to not arch. He fights it, gritting his teeth until she stops.

“I know my table has a problem with getting weak in the legs,” She starts, “But lets hope this time it doesn't spill my drink.” 

And- Bucky knows now what he's supposed to do. He knows that it's his job to be as still as possible, no moving, no shaking. He knows that if he makes one wrong move he will not only be covered in wine but also more than likely punished. 

So he breathes in deeply once, letting it out and then straightens out more, impossibly tight, as she sets the cold, flat, base of her glass right over his shoulder blade. 

A moment later she takes her seat again. He can hear her flipping the pages in a book before settling. 

The wine glass disappears, and then is placed back. 

And he knows this routine. 

He likes this routine. 

He breathes shallowly and settles into the calmness and stillness and nothingness, like he so desperately needs. Natasha reads her novel silently, allowing Bucky to simply be her tabletop. 

He always likes things like this because he's allowed to just be nothing at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always super fucking appreciated.
> 
> And heres my [Tumblr!](http://www.tyranttirade.tumblr.com)


End file.
